In Glass Houses
by Ephyra
Summary: After the shocking news that the templars have found her home, Alencia Hawke finds herself unable to return. With no one else to turn to, she finds herself sharing an empty manor with a broody, magehating elf. Tensions rise, tempers flare, yet somehow something good may come of it yet.
1. Chapter 1

I've had this idea floating around for awhile now and have decided to try to make something of it. I need an outlet from school other than League and Skyrim. I normally abhor writing in first person, but Fenris kind of took over this story, so let's hope this goes well. As always, I greatly appreciate any reviews or criticism as I wish to continually better my writing.

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Hawke is furious.

No, furious does not begin to describe it. Livid, more like it. She stomps across the ground, fire behind her grey eyes. Her tan hands clench tightly, itching to snatch the staff off her back.

The templar takes a small step back, panic flashing over his face at the advancement of the small woman. Although Hawke is petite, her demeanour is demanding and, well, frightening. That's probably why I have stayed with her as long as I have. Poor bastard can't even get a word out before a bolt of spirit energy strikes him in the chest, sending him flying into the rocks behind him. I sigh as I draws my own sword. And this is why we don't get along.

Hawke is a mage, that much had been obvious since the night we had first met. Her belief, though, that mages shouldn't be contained and just be left to live on their own is why the two of us disagree. Even she and the possessed mage don't always get along. While the two both want freedom for mages, Anders is still wary of blood magic and other forbidden magics. Hawke embraces both fully, which is why she's so buddy-buddy with the little malificar.

I have sworn Hawke my loyalty, and I am a very loyal man. Besides, I owe her a debt. None of that means I have to agree with what we do. Usually, I just do it and then complain. Like now, for instance. Killing templars to help Starkhaven apostates escape. Not only is this insane, but it also puts us all in danger. If anyone back in Kirkwall finds out about this, we'll be labeled templar-killers.

Once the last of the templars fall, the mages rush out. They thank Hawke profusely before running away. Taking what we can, we hurriedly loot the place and head back to Kirkwall in a near silence. With the exception of Anders, none of us speak. Perhaps that is another reason I stay with Hawke. She enjoys silence almost as much as I do.

As soon as we reenter Kirkwall, we head our separate ways. Aveline and I both head to Hightown in a still silence, nodding our goodbyes when we each head home. When I get to the mansion, the first place I go is the cellar to get a bottle of wine. Or two. It's been a long day.

I must have passed out halfway through the second bottle. A restless sleep haunts me all night until a banging on the door wakes me. Hawke stands in the door way, Aveline behind her, and crosses her arms impatiently. She stares pointedly at my collection of empty wine bottles, shaking her head in frustration. Grumbling curses at her in Arcanum, I get up to put on my armour. Another day, another sovreign.

That seems to be all we do. We have become almost mercenaries, working for coin for the dwarf's expedition. As a slave, I had hated Denarius's mercenaries, but now I feel especially drawn to it. I have even begun to sell my services when my presence is not required with Hawke. It allows me to have extra coin, which I have next to no use for.

As an elf, I have never had much experience with coin. When I was a slave, I was not paid so I never handled it. Once I was running though, I offered my services but was never paid much because of my race. I learned to save what little I got so I had enough to spend. Now that I'm working with Hawke and am actually getting paid properly, I'm getting more coin than ever. Old habits die hard, because I still save the majority of what I receive.

We only run a few simple errands that day and head back to Kirkwall unusually early. When we reach the city, Hawke stops us all instead of heading home straight away. "Today is Carver's naming day. I thought we could all celebrate with a few drinks."

The three of us agree, and we all head to the Hanged Man. Hawke tells us that she has to go get Carver and Merrill and will be back shortly. We head back to Varric's suite and find that he and Isabela have already started drinking. No surprise there. Half an hour later and Hawke still isn't back. "Perhaps we should go look for her," Anders offers.

"Thash a goud i-idear," Isabela slurs, attempting to stand to her feet.

"Not you," Aveline says roughly, pushing the pirate back down in her chair. "Anders, Fenris, and I will go."

My eyebrows raise involuntarily. "I will?"

"Yes, you will."

I sigh in defeat. We've only been working together for a couple months, but we all know not to argue with Aveline. It never ends well. By then, Anders had already left to look for Hawke. I make my way to the door slowly, Aveline behind me, and open it slowly, almost running straight into someone.

"My apolo – Hawke?" Her pale grey eyes widen as her mouth falls open before closing and her eyes narrow when she realises that it's me.

Merrill peeks over the other mage's shoulder. "Hello, Fenris."

I step back to allow them to enter, but Aveline steps up, blocking the doorway again. "Where have you been? We've been waiting." Aveline is the only person Hawke allows to speak to her in that way. Anyone else would expect to take a fireball to the chest.

"Carver wasn't at home," Hawke explains plainly. "Mother didn't know where he went." She turns back outside, and Aveline and I follow her out. When she looks back, I can see the concern in her eyes. Moments like this remind me that she is not just an angry mass of magic.

Her mouth opens to say something else, but someone comes running up to us from the direction of the Alienage. "Alencia! Alencia!"

"Carver?" Hawke whirls around, her voice raising in excitement. I hadn't realised that he was calling her, for I am unused to hearing her first name. "Where have you been?"

"Alencia," he ignores her question, coming to a stop and panting for breath, "t-templars."

With that one word, we all grow tense. Had they found out about what happened yesterday? I grit my teeth together, berating myself for going along with it. Hawke's face pales. It looks wrong on someone normally so bold and fearless. "Where?"

"Gamlen's house," Carver stands up straight now. "They were looking for you and followed me to find you. I led them off your trail and lost them."

Hawke stumbles forward and throws her arms around her brother's neck. Carver awkwardly wraps his arms around her and pats her back. About that time, Anders comes round the corner. "I see you found Hawke. Wait, what's going on?"

"The templars found Hawke," Aveline says gravely.

"Maker's balls," Anders breathes. "What'll you do?"

Hawke pulls away from Carver and turns to face the rest of us. Carver sighs, scratching the back of his head. "She can't come back to Gamlen's. They know that's where we live."

"You're a healer," Anders says. "You can come stay at the clinic with me."

"Oh, no," Carver says harshly, "the templars are already after you. Two mages would draw even more attention."

"Then she can't stay with me, either," Merrill says sadly.

Aveline shifts from foot to foot. "Hawke, you'd know I'd offer, but…"

"You have your duty," Hawke nods understandingly.

"I don't think the Hanged Man is a place to hide an apostate," Varric says from behind me. I hadn't even realised he had joined us. Damn dwarf. "That only leaves…"

Suddenly, I feel everyone's eyes on me, and I mentally run through the group. Not Anders, not Merrill, not Aveline, not Varric, not Isabela. My eyes widen as I come to the realisation. That leaves… "Me."

Varric smiles, a strange twinkle in his eye. "That's right, Broody. You're our Hawke's only hope."

"No way in the Void," she hisses.

Anders – who had been pouting since Carver rejected his offer – jumps in. "She can't stay with that…that mage-hater!"

The two of us begin to bicker, while Hawke argues with Carver about other options. Finally, Aveline steps up and says in a loud voice, "It's either the mage-hater or the mage-hunters."

That silences us all. As much as we don't want to admit it, we know she's right. "I don't like this," I finally say through clenched teeth.

"Neither do I," she says just as tersely.

"For once, they're in agreement," Varric says with a chuckle as if he's enjoying the situation. Damn dwarf.


	2. Chapter 2

Now that it has apparently been decided that Hawke and I will be living together, none of us know exactly what to do. The mood for celebrating has been severely dampened. After several moments of silence, Carver finally speaks up. "Why don't you head to the manor with him? I'll bring your things by later."

"Thank you, Carver, " Hawke says softly. She turns to look at me, eyes glimmering with impatience. "Well?"

"Follow me," I say, turning to walk to Hightown.

The walk is long and awkward. Normally, I don't mind silence, but this time it is very tense. I open the door to allow her in. She hesitates for a moment before gathering herself and walking in.

"By the Maker, don't you ever clean this place? The corpses are still here," she immediately whines. She has obviously been spending too much time with the mage. They both seem to revel in complaining. "That would explain the smell though."

"I do not spend much time here," I say through gritted teeth. "I work and then come here to sleep."

"The least you could do is pick up after yourself," she mutters as she sidesteps around a pile of empty bottles.

"Since you're staying here now," I point out as I scoop up a half-empty bottle, "you can do something about it."

Her grey eyes stare me down defiantly. "Maybe I will." I fiercely hold back her gaze, my breath heaving from my nostrils before taking a deep swig from the bottle. This will never work. Who in their right mind could live with this woman?

"Uh…am I interrupting?"

Neither of us had noticed Carver come inside, a cloth bag slung over his shoulder. Hawke steps towards him and takes the bag from him. "Thank you, Carver. I—"

Carver holds up a broad hand. "No need to say anything. I understand. I'll take care of Mother and Gamlen, Sister. You do what you can to get us that coin." He sighs, laying his hand on Hawke's shoulder with a forlorn expression on his face. "We need this expedition now more than ever."

"We'll be back in that estate in no time, Carv," she says with more tenderness than I have ever heard from her.

"And, you, elf," Carver steps around her and takes a few brisk, long strides towards me. "You'd better take care of my sister. I won't be able to watch her back, so you'll just have to do it for me."

With how much the two of them squabble, I have never realised how much they actually cared for each other. I myself know nothing of family bonds of siblings, and these two are certainly not the best example to learn from. Despite that, the fierceness in his dark eyes proves just how much these siblings are actually alike. "I…I shall protect her."

His gaze softened just a bit. I notice Hawke turning to look at me out of the corner of my eye. "Thank you. I'll head home now and give you time to settle in. I'll let you know when it's safe to come home, Alencia."

With that, he turns and walks out, leaving the two of us together. I glance in her direction before sighing softly. "You can have any room in the house. Only those on the top floor have a bed though, but you can have your pick."

"I…thank you, Fenris." She sounds a little surprised, as if she had expected me to demand she sleep on the floor. Of course, if our positions were reversed, I would have expected the same from her.

She clears her throat, brushing a strand of stray hair back from her face. "Well, uh, I think I'll just try to rest now. We've all had a long day."

I nod my head towards one of the side doors. "There's a bathroom down that hall way with a pot of water above the fireplace in there that you can heat up if you'd like a bath."

"Oh, I think I will. Ah, goodnight, Fenris," she mumbles before heading towards the door. I watch her only for a moment longer before heading upstairs, draining the rest of the wine bottle as I walk.

Stripping out of my armour, I quickly crawl into bed. Same as every night, and yet it somehow feels different. The thought that someone else is in the house is…perturbing. Try as I might, I cannot sleep all night.

The sun rises far too early. I stretch my sore muscles and kinks out before putting on my armour again. As I shut my door behind me, I look up to see Hawke exiting the room to my right at the same time. I must have looked surprised, because she just scowls at me. "Forgot I was here?"

"For a moment, yes."

"So did I when I woke up," she mutters. "This is the last place I expected to find myself waking up. The last place I wanted to."

I feel myself bristle. It's far too early for this. "You don't have to stay here, you know. There's nothing making me stick my neck out to protect you."

She falters, her face falling and her voice a soft whisper. "I-I know. Do not think that I am ungrateful. I just would prefer…"

"Things to be different?" I hiss. "Yes, I agree."

Hawke sighs, her face scrunching up bitterly. "Well, we'd better get going then. Time to go make some more coin."

We awkwardly leave the manor together and head towards the Hanged Man. Isabela waits at the bar downing the drink Corff hands her. When she notices us, she struts over, grabs Hawke by the arm, and drags her back to the bar. Left alone, I take a seat in the corner and begin polishing my sword. Despite the distance between us, I can still hear their conversation over the hungover drunkards.

"Well, Hawke, you've got to tell me everything! How was your first night with the dark, mysteriously sexy elf?" Isabela asks excitedly.

"What are you talking about?" Hawke counters. "I'm only staying with Fenris because I have no other choice. I'd never do anything with him and you know that."

"Oh, but think about how great it'd be," Isabela pauses before chuckling and continuing. "Look at him over there. His strong, firm hands expertly handling that long, thick sword."

Without looking up, I call out to the pirate, "You know I can hear you, right?"

"That was the point," Isabela chuckles with a flirtatious wink before turning back to Hawke. "Seriously, how do you pass that up?"

Before Isabela can conjured up any more dirty images, Varric emerges from his suite, and Hawke leaps to her feet. "About time. Have you got anything for us today?"

"Calm down, Hawke," the dwarf mutters. "It's too early to be excited. But before you strangle me, yes, I _might _have something. Heard of a woman asking around for help in front of the Chantry."

"Thanks, Varric," Hawke quickly declares. "Fenris, let's go." I quirk an eyebrow at her commanding tone but do not object, sheathing my sword as I stand.

"Can't I come?" Isabela calls into a new drink from Corff.

"Now, now, 'Bela," Varric chuckles, "let the lovebirds have their fun." He barely manages to dodge the ale hurtling towards his face. Hawke storms out the Hanged Man, ignoring the complaints of the man whose drink she just smashed against the wall.

Anders and Aveline quickly join us as usual. Sometimes I wonder why Merrill, Isabela, and Varric never come with us. Despite the differences in this particular group, we work very well together. Aveline takes all the damage for us, while Anders and I prioritise attacking, and Hawke heals from behind.

We finally reach Hightown and find a small, snivelling woman standing in front of the Chanter's Board. Hawke wrestles the details despite the woman's constant tears. She tenses when the woman mentions that her missing brother is a templar, and it almost seems that she may just walk away from the job. Despite her foolish beliefs, Hawke is a smart woman and knows that we need this money as much as I do.

As we head up the stairs to the gallows, I notice both Anders and Hawke begin to look a little wary. I know that Anders has been running from the templars for years, but Hawke has never been afraid of templar, rather they seem to fear her. Recalling yesterday's events, however, I can understand her hesitance.

A group of young templars stands off to the side, gossiping loudly. Hawke leads us towards them, speaking quickly and snappily, getting her answers. As soon as we arrived, we leave the Gallows, and Hawke audibly sighs in relief. "Every time I go there, it gets harder not to go on a rampage."

Normally, I would leap at the chance to harass her magic, but I falter, noticing the bags under her eyes. Yesterday was rough on all of us, and I am feeling oddly compassionate. How strange.

The hike to the camp the templar recruits directed us to is long and silent. As we round the corner, raised voices reach us. A tall, man in templar armour stands over a pale little man, the recruit we are apparently looking for. Hawke takes a defensive stance, her hand reaching towards her staff. "I always knew the templar order was corrupt, but this is taking to a new level," she spits out.

The templar shoots her a glare. "This is no concern to you, stranger."

"Normally, I would be glad to let templars kill themselves," she replies, "but I've been hired to do a job, and I need that recruit that you're beating."

Before the templar can respond, the recruit lets out a blood-curdling laugh. He rises to his feet and, in an eruption of dark light, his flesh begins to twist grotesquely. The templar steps back from his in shock. The recruit raises his arms and summons shades from the Fade.

"H-How?" I hear Anders whisper. "He's a templar, not a mage."

We do not have time to debate the subject, however, because the shades come flying at us. The templar is quick to react and quickly cuts down the one closest to him. He and I charge the templar abomination, while the others cut down the shades.

The beings are cut down quickly. I slip my sword back in its sheathe as Hawke turns toward the remaining templar. His sword points at her hesitantly, as if he is debating putting it away or running her through. Finally, he lowers his sword with a long sigh. "I thank you for your help, apostate. I knew Wilmod was hiding something but did not expect something to this degree."

"Maybe if you hadn't been beating him, I would've been able to question him about his friend Keran," Hawke hisses venomously.

The templar blinks in surprise. "Keran? What need have you of Keran?"

"His sister asked us to find him since you and your men obviously cannot do anything."

"What do you think I was doing out here?" the templar spits back. "We have had recruits disappearing for months. Wilmod is the only one to have ever returned. I am trying to find my recruits!"

"_Your_ recruits?"

"If you had allowed me to introduce myself instead of jumping down my throat," he says pointedly. "I am Knight-Captain Cullen."

Hawke steps back hesitantly. Even I have heard of this Knight-Captain. Word is that he is second only to the Knight-Commander. That the second most powerful templar knows of Hawke's magic while his men have been searching for her would be very concerning for her. After a moment, her face resets into her harsh mask. "You said that many of your recruits have been disappearing?"

"Yes, yet we've found no corpses," Cullen says with a sigh. "Then yesterday, Wilmod returned. I have hoped to get some information from him, but he refused to say anything. You know what happened after that."

"So you have nothing?" Hawke murmurs. "Perfect."

"Well, I may have a lead. Keran and Wilmod were the most recent to disappear. The last place that either of them were seen was the Blooming Rose," Cullen flushes at the mere mention of the local whorehouse. "However, I cannot get any of the ladies there to tell me anything without fear of shutting them down."

"So, you want me to go question the whores?" she replies plaintively.

His face turns even redder. "If you would be so kind."

"Fine. I will inform you of what I find."

She turns to lead us down the mountain, but Cullen calls out again. "W-Wait! I do not know your name, serah."

Hesitantly, she turns back to him. "Alencia. But you may call me Hawke."

"Very well, Serah Hawke," he nods. "I will make sure that it is safe for you to enter the Gallows."

Hawke blinks in surprise. "I... Thank you, ser." As we leave, I notice the templar's eyes follow our departure. A strange expression overcomes his face when his eyes rest on Hawke. Pity, sadness, hesitance? It is confusing why anyone would look at her in such a way.


End file.
